She found herself wrapped tightly in her own bed sheets when she woke up in a hole in the ground. Damp dirt was piled all around her and the sun was beginning to set as she struggled to remember how she got there. No amount of writhing seemed to be getting the sheet unstuck from her torso, the ropes digging into her like a vice as she gave up on untangling herself in favour of getting onto the surface and to the nearest phone.
The hole was almost eight feet deep and roughly dug towards the bottom, like someone had started off with patience and the aim to dig out a perfect rectangle but panicked at the end and left it U shaped. No amount of jumping would get her near to the top and the sides were too slippery to grip properly, the dirt crumbling and sliding beneath her desperate clawing.
As she sunk back down, going to lean back on the sloped wall behind her, instead of meeting damp earth she fell through into a tunnel that had been disguised in the growing shadows. It might lead down but it beats waiting here, she reasoned to herself as she hoisted and tucked the sheets further up her waist before crawling into the dark passage.
The tunnel was practically dripping with water and she sunk up to her elbows several times along the way. Eventually the ground seemed to slope upwards, hopefully leading her to the safety of the surface and (doubtfully but still possibly) close to a town where she could get help.
Though the tunnel itself was dark, the cold stone floor that it led to was colder still. It seemed to be made from concrete and she wondered if she was in a shed or a barn. Feeling her way to the edge of a wall she fumbled about for a light switch, blinding herself when she accidentally flicked it on with her graceless pawing.
After her eyes had adjusted somewhat she found she remembered the room, remembered the metallic tang to the air just before everything went dark. Stumbling over to the sawdust piled in one corner and brushing it aside she found what she last remembered seeing looking less vivid but just as worrying as when it had spilled from her head after she'd hit the floor.
It was then that she noticed the colour of her hands - that odd, bluish, blotchy colour, the way her fingers were frozen in place and beginning to swell at the joints. She didn't feel the need to panic or scream at her realisation, only the need to lie down where she'd originally fallen. It felt safer here, like she was meant to just rest there until she was eventually found.
She didn't know if this realisation had happened to her before, if she was the one who had made the tunnel or if it was made before she'd fallen. This could be her thousandth time at trying to rest before she was taken back to the hole where she was perhaps meant to rest. It didn't matter now, she was there with her sawdust pillow and she was at peace.
The hole was almost eight feet deep and roughly dug towards the bottom, like someone had started off with patience and the aim to dig out a perfect rectangle but panicked at the end and left it U shaped. No amount of jumping would get her near to the top and the sides were too slippery to grip properly, the dirt crumbling and sliding beneath her desperate clawing.
As she sunk back down, going to lean back on the sloped wall behind her, instead of meeting damp earth she fell through into a tunnel that had been disguised in the growing shadows. It might lead down but it beats waiting here, she reasoned to herself as she hoisted and tucked the sheets further up her waist before crawling into the dark passage.
The tunnel was practically dripping with water and she sunk up to her elbows several times along the way. Eventually the ground seemed to slope upwards, hopefully leading her to the safety of the surface and (doubtfully but still possibly) close to a town where she could get help.
Though the tunnel itself was dark, the cold stone floor that it led to was colder still. It seemed to be made from concrete and she wondered if she was in a shed or a barn. Feeling her way to the edge of a wall she fumbled about for a light switch, blinding herself when she accidentally flicked it on with her graceless pawing.
After her eyes had adjusted somewhat she found she remembered the room, remembered the metallic tang to the air just before everything went dark. Stumbling over to the sawdust piled in one corner and brushing it aside she found what she last remembered seeing looking less vivid but just as worrying as when it had spilled from her head after she'd hit the floor.
It was then that she noticed the colour of her hands - that odd, bluish, blotchy colour, the way her fingers were frozen in place and beginning to swell at the joints. She didn't feel the need to panic or scream at her realisation, only the need to lie down where she'd originally fallen. It felt safer here, like she was meant to just rest there until she was eventually found.
She didn't know if this realisation had happened to her before, if she was the one who had made the tunnel or if it was made before she'd fallen. This could be her thousandth time at trying to rest before she was taken back to the hole where she was perhaps meant to rest. It didn't matter now, she was there with her sawdust pillow and she was at peace.
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